About to break the 80-page mark on my "shitty draft." Arnie taught me that term, saying its utility is widely recognized. Get words on the page. Don't worry about anything. Fix later. Move forward. I want to have this shitty draft done by the end of January. And then the Great Revision will begin.
Mind you, I still don't have final approval on this project.
Having a hard time working on the more difficult medical scenes and getting a firm idea of my "new" characters, Sean and Declan. Trying to remember how I've gotten to know the core characters better as I've gone, and that the same thing will happen with these two. Seems really hard to condense a medical visit into a scene. I'll hopefully bring the first big Sean-Declan-Jess scene to the January WIP. It will be fun to have a writing workshop with my medical school classmates.
Loving the Woody Guthrie biography. Excellent description of his mother's decline and death from HD, some very dramatic events. His misconceptions about his risk are also interesting, and I'm just getting to the point of his early symptoms.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wilderness med application essay
I post this with sadness that so few people are included in this course, but I thought I would share the majorly hippy musings that were somehow accepted...
******
Today I saw a bumper sticker that said, “Trees are the answer,” and I had to agree, having repeatedly experienced the powerful physical and psychological restoration that can happen amid trees, plants, dirt, and fresh air. Nothing is more grounding than sleeping on the actual ground. I’ve come to understand nature as the source of health, and disease often as a symptom of human separation from nature.
What is the mechanism of action of the potent medicine of wilderness? Natural environments stand as a role model of health. A plant in its ideal ecological niche demonstrates a vitality that we rarely see elsewhere. The model of photosynthesis -- light into sugar, carbon dioxide into oxygen -- reminds us of possibilities of transformation and symbiosis.
As a future psychiatrist, I want to facilitate my patients’ access to this form of medicine. Only so much psychological work can be done “on the couch.” Lessons of the wild directly address issues at the core of some psychiatric illnesses. Connection to the larger ecological web counteracts the sense of isolation in depression and anxiety. Competence in planning and navigating an excursion offsets the helplessness of chronic disease. Overcoming fears of open places, animals, or water proves that other fears can be overcome back home. And awe in the presence of beauty addresses a less quantifiable element, the existential underpinnings of mental illness.
It is well known that psychiatric work can only be done in a setting of safety. My residency training will teach me to care for patients’ psychiatric safety, but if I am going to facilitate excursions, their physical safety will need to be my fundamental priority. The Wilderness Medicine elective would be my introduction to the skills I will need to make my vision reality.
Aside from psychiatry, I also have a strong interest in botanical medicine and partake in wildcrafting trips around Northern California and Mexico, where we respectfully harvest medicinal plants from their native environments. I have learned a lot about safe plant identification and the plant medicines available to treat minor illnesses and injuries in the field, but few people I’ve traveled with have more than basic knowledge of first aid. As someone who straddles the mainstream and “alternative” medicine worlds, I am in a unique position to complement the wildcrafting community’s medical approaches with the allopathic skills necessary in certain situations.
The study of wilderness medicine is necessary to balance out our hospital-based training, with CT scans and specialist consults at our fingertips. It is the ultimate in primary care, the foundation of all medicine, demanding another level of resourcefulness, improvisation, and judgment. I very much hope to leave the clinic/hospital for a few weeks this summer to reap the health benefits of time in wilderness as well as acquire skills that will help me to allow others to do the same.
******
Today I saw a bumper sticker that said, “Trees are the answer,” and I had to agree, having repeatedly experienced the powerful physical and psychological restoration that can happen amid trees, plants, dirt, and fresh air. Nothing is more grounding than sleeping on the actual ground. I’ve come to understand nature as the source of health, and disease often as a symptom of human separation from nature.
What is the mechanism of action of the potent medicine of wilderness? Natural environments stand as a role model of health. A plant in its ideal ecological niche demonstrates a vitality that we rarely see elsewhere. The model of photosynthesis -- light into sugar, carbon dioxide into oxygen -- reminds us of possibilities of transformation and symbiosis.
As a future psychiatrist, I want to facilitate my patients’ access to this form of medicine. Only so much psychological work can be done “on the couch.” Lessons of the wild directly address issues at the core of some psychiatric illnesses. Connection to the larger ecological web counteracts the sense of isolation in depression and anxiety. Competence in planning and navigating an excursion offsets the helplessness of chronic disease. Overcoming fears of open places, animals, or water proves that other fears can be overcome back home. And awe in the presence of beauty addresses a less quantifiable element, the existential underpinnings of mental illness.
It is well known that psychiatric work can only be done in a setting of safety. My residency training will teach me to care for patients’ psychiatric safety, but if I am going to facilitate excursions, their physical safety will need to be my fundamental priority. The Wilderness Medicine elective would be my introduction to the skills I will need to make my vision reality.
Aside from psychiatry, I also have a strong interest in botanical medicine and partake in wildcrafting trips around Northern California and Mexico, where we respectfully harvest medicinal plants from their native environments. I have learned a lot about safe plant identification and the plant medicines available to treat minor illnesses and injuries in the field, but few people I’ve traveled with have more than basic knowledge of first aid. As someone who straddles the mainstream and “alternative” medicine worlds, I am in a unique position to complement the wildcrafting community’s medical approaches with the allopathic skills necessary in certain situations.
The study of wilderness medicine is necessary to balance out our hospital-based training, with CT scans and specialist consults at our fingertips. It is the ultimate in primary care, the foundation of all medicine, demanding another level of resourcefulness, improvisation, and judgment. I very much hope to leave the clinic/hospital for a few weeks this summer to reap the health benefits of time in wilderness as well as acquire skills that will help me to allow others to do the same.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
On discovering coffee
It took almost 32 years, but coffee finally got me. If anything could convert to a caffeinator, it would be medical school. The third year of medical school.
It's like all vices. It made me feel terrible at first. That's how I avoided it for this long. It is anxiogenic, and I'm looking for an anxiolytic. It gave me acid bowels. Three hours later, I would want to die. But I persisted through it. Like the hacking after the first foul drag of a cigarette, the sour face after the first unexpected bitter bit of beer, those symptoms have settled into a low-grade physiologic disturbance.
And the taste! I'm tired of nettle tea! A vehicle for cream! I'm tired of unsweetened rice milk!
It's like all vices. It made me feel terrible at first. That's how I avoided it for this long. It is anxiogenic, and I'm looking for an anxiolytic. It gave me acid bowels. Three hours later, I would want to die. But I persisted through it. Like the hacking after the first foul drag of a cigarette, the sour face after the first unexpected bitter bit of beer, those symptoms have settled into a low-grade physiologic disturbance.
And the taste! I'm tired of nettle tea! A vehicle for cream! I'm tired of unsweetened rice milk!
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